Portraits

[Page 143]

Mané and Surroundings

by M. R.

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

M. Z. Mané was the star who put our town on the map, and some
of his glory reflected back on the town. His many talents as a poet and
a painter, which did not come to full fruition, must have been absorbed
from the natural environment in which he grew up. His calm and even temper
must have been shaped by the tranquil, green surrounding of Radoshkowitz
and its pleasant, friendly residents.

Mordecai Zvi grew up in poverty. His family lived in a small apartment
near the market, on a side street which led to the fields. The father taught
in heder, where his son was one of his pupils. His teaching income was
not enough to sustain the family. The mother, Tamara, an energetic woman,
sold ceramic containers at the market, and the father engraved tombstones.
He would bring the stone slabs home, and his son, surrounded with the gloom
of the dead, would yearn for the colors of the sun and the open fields.

The time M. Z. spent in nature must have been very limited because he
does not mention it in his poems. Some say that a fire destroyed their
apartment house, and the family had to leave and ask for financial aid
from some rich relatives. When M. Z. reached the age of thirteen, in order
to keep expenses down and acquire some spiritual gains, his parents sent
him to a yeshiva in Minsk. He spent a few miserable years there, which
he mentioned later in his writing. When he returned home, disappointed,
his parents began looking for a way for him to make a living. He had a
most beautiful handwriting, and so he went to the scribe, Zvi, and his
son, Avraham Shachor, to learn their trade. This opened new paths for this
most talented young man. Zvi and Avraham Shachor were learned and progressive
men, and they recognized the outstanding talents of M. Z. Mané.
They became a guiding light and spiritual support for him during his short
life. They encouraged him to get a broad, general education and develop
his special talents. They were happy with his accomplishments and were
his true friends.

When Avraham realized that Mané had a talent for painting, he
advised him to go to Vilna to study. Mané spent four years there,
where he was aided by some generous people who supported him. He studied
Hebrew and poetry and finished with distinction at a school for painting.
He returned to Radoshkowitz at age twenty-one, an accomplished young man
on his way up. He spent a short time there, but stood out from the young
people of his generation as a very special, creative young man.

Zvi and Avraham Shachor were delighted with Mané's first successes.
He painted both their portraits, which were hung in their room. At this
time, another home opened to Mané, the house of wealthy wood merchant,
Haim Yoel Shinhaus. He and his two sons Bendet and Leon spent most of their
time away on business, returning to Radoshkowitz for the holidays. The
younger son, Leon, was well educated and fluent in Hebrew and German literature
and used to publish articles in the two languages. He befriended Mané.
He admired his talents and his gentle ways and became his closest friend.
After Mané's death, it was Leon who had his works published by Tushia.

Another admirer of Mané's was the Hebrew teacher, Ya'acov Orchiks:
tall, bespectacled and a with a hoarse voice. Like a professional teacher,
he added the vowels to Manés poems. Other aspiring poets who admired
Mané were Itzchak Yoel Rubin and Haim David Rosenstein, who later
became famous for their publications and educational activities. These
were Mané's friends. They accompanied him on his walks out of town,
discussing art and literature with him. Mané spoke a great deal
about the writers and artists who had impressed him in Vilna. When he left
for St. Petersburg to continue his studies at the Academy of Art, each
of his friends went his own way but still followed the impressive accomplishments
of their mutual friend, Mané.

Three years later Mané returned to Radoshkowitz for the summer,
to rest. During his three years away he had seen the big world, the big
city. He had seen many art treasures and made great strides in general
studies and in professional knowledge. He had established some sources
of income, met some important Jewish (Hebrew) poets  Y. L. Gordon, the
Baron Ginsburg, Kaufman and more. The highest authorities now recognized
him as an artist and poet with a promising future. On this visit to Radoshkowitz
he was received as a celebrity, not only by his friends, but by the whole
town. He was special, a phenomenon, a climbing star, whose light shone
on us all. That summer he enjoyed the love and admiration of the whole
town.

The same summer Mané went to Warsaw and stayed with one of his
Vilna friends, the singer and cantor, Shmuel Tsiz. He also came to know
the writers and journalists, Nachum Sokolov and Shaul Pinchas Rabinovitz.
The former published a yearly called, Ha'assif, and the latter, the yearly,
Knesset Yisrael. Mané illustrated them with his drawings and published
some articles.

A year later, Mané returned to Radoshkowitz to rest again. He
was at the height of fame as an artist and poet, with a promising future,
but was already touched by the disease which would kill him. The winter
before, he had caught a cold in the frigid, damp winter of St. Petersburg
and came down with tuberculosis. His body was weak from hard work and poor
nutrition, and the disease never left him. He was unable to continue with
his studies and so remained in Radoshkowitz. His last two years were spent
in idleness and boredom, physical and mental torment and diminishing strength.

And so, Radoshkowitz saw its favorite son slowly dying. The circle of
friends around him grew. He wanted to establish a small library for the
books of the Haskalah. He also tried to publish with his friends, Shinhaus
and Rubin, a monthly called, Hanitzanim, (The Buds), for the readers
in town. The first issue was published after his death. Mané passed
away during the holiday of Succoth. His tombstone in the old cemetery tells
future generations of the light that was extinguished before its time.

[Page 149]

Memories from M. Z. Mané's Life

(Written on the 25th Anniversary of his Death)

by M. Rabinson

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

I came to Radoshkowitz a year after Mané's death, while the impressions
of his life and illness were still fresh. With the wonder of a child, I
absorbed the memories of the town, which seemed deserted after its luster
had dimmed.

In winter afternoons, between Mincha and Ma'ariv services, when my friends
and I were look for something to do, we would say to each other, Let's
go look at Moshe Mané's face. He was the poet's father, who was
sitting in the Beit Hamidrash studying silently by the light of a candle.
He seemed to us the symbol of sadness and mourning, angry at the injustice
of losing his outstanding son at such an early age.

How he must cry at night! we thought as we looked at him. How
he must sigh and moan in his sleep. He must wish he were dead.

It was told that before his parents came to Radoshkowitz they were collecting
hand-outs (money) from wealthy relatives. Tamara, the mother, was a tough
woman, who used to scare her neighbors; the father was a gentle sort. He
was handy and had a beautiful Hebrew handwriting. For a few years he was
a melamed (in a heder) and then a carver of tombstones. His son must have
inherited his talent for painting from him.

There was little in common between the mother and her gentle son; there
was a spiritual and emotional closeness between father and son. But the
poet loved both his parents deeply. He saw in them no fault and forgave
the fact that because of their stinginess they fed him poorly as a child.
In order not to upset his parents he behaved exactly like them. Even while
studying in St. Petersburg, he denied himself any religious freedom. His
only indiscretion was not covering his head once in a while.

As meek and mild mannered as he was, he was a leader in spreading the
Haskalah in Radoshkowitz. He was the center who attracted many followers.
A few young people wanted to establish a Haskalah library in town and used
a ruse to do so. They asked the society, Mefizay Haskalah (The Spreaders
of Haskalah) in St. Petersburg, to send them books, and one of the young
people, the shochet's son, used his father's stamp on the letter, to give
it sense of approval. One day a large bundle of books arrived from St.
Petersburg and stirred up a big commotion. Rabbi Brodna was opposed to
the establishment of such a library, even though his son was not. The rabbi's
wishes prevailed, and the books disappeared. They were hidden in cracks
and holes so that they could be read somewhere between home and outside.
Then Mané returned to town and raised the devil. They rounded up
the books, and the library was finally established. All that was needed
now were funds to maintain it. Mané painted a portrait of Moshe
Montifiore to be auctioned off, with the proceeds to finance the library.
But the auction failed to bring in enough. Mané was greatly disappointed
and wrote a satirical article about the people of Durakovich (durak in
Russian means fool), whose understanding of Haskalah is limited.

While in Radoshkowitz Mané spent most of his time in Zvi Sachor's
(the scribe's) home. Zvi and his father Avraham Shachor were Maskilim from
the old generation. They read three of the Haskalah newspapers, Hameilitz,
Hatzfeera and Hashahar. They were the first Zionists, and I remember
how, after services at the Beit Hamidrash, Avraham would talk about Eretz
Israel and tell us about the articles he had read in Hameilitz. As he was
folding his talit he seemed like a man ready to set out for the promised
land. Avraham was the local correspondent to Hameilitz, writing about major
events in town. The progressiveness of the father and son hurt them professionally.
People took the business of writing inserts for mezuzot and tefillin to
other scribes. So they concentrated on making houses,  translucent houses,
which were a gift item for wealthy Bar Mitzvah boys. But since there wasn't
enough income in this, they also owned a taproom. Consequently, they had
their translucent houses, Haskalah books and barrels of drinks in the same
house.

Mané first came to the Shachors as an apprentice after he returned
from the yeshiva in Minsk. But Tvi and Avraham recognized his artistic
talent and, being open minded as they were, wanted to see him develop that
talent. And so Mané went to Vilna and then to St. Petersburg to
study art. Mané appreciated all they had done for him and was devoted
to them until his death. He painted both their portraits, and they adorned
the walls of their home. While away, Mané wrote them letters full
of love, and while in town he spent most of his time in their home.

Other close friends of Mané were L. Shinhaus, S. Tsich and Y.
Y. Rubin. Though from the upper class, they did not shy away from Mané,
whose mother sold pots at the market, and whose brother transported sand
in his carriage. Mané found his friends had literary and artistic
talents. Soon Shinhaus and Rubin, publishing articles, and Tsich, performing
music, were seen as satellites to the big light  Mané.

Mané enjoyed hearing his songs sung by his friends and acquaintances,
even though he was very modest. It was the sheer pleasure of the creator
hearing his creation, even though, we must admit, he thought himself an
outstanding poet. He held a grudge against Y. L. Gordon, who dismissed
his talent and would not make room for him among the honored poets in St.
Petersburg. It seems that every artist dislikes others in his field. The
same Gordon was very hospitable to prose writers but found flaws in all
the poets.

After leaving the Academy in St. Petersburg, Mané returned to
Radoshkowitz, sick, tired and sad. He knew that the disease meant he would
die young but did not talk about it with those close to him, so as not
to upset them. Mané saw himself living in a world full of death
amid the tombstones which filled his father's home. Once, while talking
to friends and sitting on one of the stones, he said, It's better to sit
on this stone than to lie under it. The poet-painter, who loved life so,
for the beauty in it, knew he would be leaving it soon.

The last two years of his life were a slow death, but even then there
were moments of light and happiness. On days when he felt better he would
write poetry and decorate

the pages with his beautiful drawings. Sometimes he would write poems
in gold ink. His beautiful handwriting had some of the gloom of the tombstone
letters.

[Page 155]

Remembering M. Z. Mané

(Open Letter to Tel-Aviv Municipality, published in the Daily Davar,
1936)

by Yoel Isaacson zl

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

I remember when I visited the cemetery in my home town, Radoshkowitz,
forty
years ago, and saw the tombstone of the poet, M. Z. Mané in ruins.
I wrote about it to the authors, L. Shinhaus and S. Tsich, two of Mané's
friends, and they sent me money to rebuild the stone and erect a protecting
roof over it. I did so, and it is standing to this day.

Now, when I immigrated to Israel I heard the poet's songs sung by many.
And on Shabbat, the 15th of Cheshvan, this year, I heard at
Ohel Shem (a theater) at an Oneg Shabbat, Asher Barash lecture about M.
Z. Mané, on the 50th anniversary of his death. And the
thought occurred to me that if the poet's songs have left such an impression
on our own country, why not erect an everlasting memorial for this poet
by naming a street in Tel-Aviv after him? Two of his songs, alone, are
worthy of such a memorial. Am Olam (Eternal People) and
Mass'at Nafshi (My Soul's Yearning).

And to schools in Israel and abroad and to Ohel Shem, as well, why
not dedicate this year, the fiftieth anniversary of his death, to his songs.*

*Note: A short time after this
letter was published, a street was named after Mané

[Page 156]

Rabbi Meir Rabinson

by Ben-Zion Notlevich, Rabbi of Brooklyn, NY

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

My heart is beating, and my hand trembles as I try to concentrate and
write for this book of remembrance of a town which was destroyed by evil
men. I knew Radoshkowitz and its kind and enlightened people, and it pains
me when I think of their bitter end. But I was glad to respond to the request
to write about my father-in-law, the venerable Rabbi Meir Rabinson, who
served as the town's spiritual leader for fifty years. He was kind and
reasonable, friendly and very popular, and thus, left his imprint on the
town and its people.

He was the son of Rabbi Yehoshua Zvi from Venzigola in Kovna county,
who immigrated to Jerusalem and taught Torah there for a few years. In
his youth, Rabbi Meir was known as the brilliant one from Venzigola. He
was most talented and had a wonderful memory, and when he was accepted
at the Yeshiva in Kroky, in Kovna County, at a very early age, he was known
as one of the great Rabbis of Zamut. The great rabbis of the time, like
our Rabbi Yitzhak Elhanan from Kovna, Rabbi Yoseph Zcharyahu Stern from
Shavil and Rabbi Alexander Moshe from Rassain, admired him as one of the
best of his generation. Even then he was known for his extensive knowledge
of Talmud and as an innovator in Bible studies, which were printed in biblical
monthlies like, Yagdil Torah, which was published in Odessa. In those
days he was known as Rabbi Meirke from Kroky. Later he became the rabbi
of Radoshkowitz, and he was known as one of the greats of his generation.
He only added to his knowledge, which was very impressive. He knew all
of the Bavli Talmud and all its interpretations by heart. His knowledge
of the late writing was so extensive that he was among the few rabbis who
would decide in questions regarding Jewish life in his town and the areas
around it. Many rabbis from communities far away invited him to come and
decide in matters regarding their communities. Even Rabbi Yerucham from
Minsk would call on him to decide in difficult matters.

In addition to his great knowledge of the Torah, Rabbi Meir was a practical
man with a good understanding of people. His knowledge of the Torah was
like a fountainhead, and lucky were those who studied with him. He was
a prolific writer. He filled many volumes with his wisdom and many innovations
in Torah, Halacha and legends. All his writings are kept in the National
Book Depository in Jerusalem. Some of his innovations were published, but
most of his writing is still waiting to be published. Only then, will people
be able to appreciate his greatness.

Rabbi Meir spent most of his life in Radoshkowitz, where he taught and
created most of his innovations in Torah study. His name will forever be
linked to Radoshkowitz.

However, late in his life he moved to Jerusalem, where he became friends
with the Chief Rabbi, Hacohen Cook. He died there at the age of eighty-four.
His picture and handwriting are enshrined in the Department of Portraits
and Autographs of the Greats of Israel of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem.

[Page 158]

My Mother The Rebetzin

by Shlomo Eliyahu Rabinson

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

My mother, the Rebetzin, Lea, daughter of Reb Zvi, lived in Radoshkowitz
for forty years. She came there with my father, Rabbi Meir and their five
children. The rest of their children were born there.

My mother was always busy working. She got up early and went to bed
late. Throughout the day, she managed our family's yeast business, our
main source of income. Our apartment was an open store, and the door was
always open for the many customers who bought yeast in packages by weight.

She also ran the household. She took careful care of my father's clothes,
and when he came home from the synagogue, the table was always set. She
also raised her sons to study the Torah, pray and keep the commandments.
When my two sisters, Miriam and Bryna, married two respected men, learned
in the Torah, their families continued to live with us, and my mother took
care of all their needs with great love. Miriam and her husband, Rabbi
Manos Esser Polonsky, who was the rabbi in Liboy, were later killed by
the Nazis, and Rabbi Ben Zion Notlevich, Bryna's husband, is today the
Rabbi of the congregation Hevra Torah, of the Descendents of Radoshkowitz,
in Brooklyn, NY.

At the end of the day my mother would withdraw to her room to spend
some time alone, praying silently for the good of us all, while the tears
ran down her cheeks. This was an hour of spirituality. When she left her
room her face had a divine glow to it.

In her dealings with people, my mother was sincere, honest and spoke
the truth. She gave to charity and did charitable deeds. She was very hospitable
and fed the poor and helped many needy people.

On Shabbat and holidays my mother rested from the hard work of the weekdays;
she spent time praying and chatting with her neighbors. She was a true,
modest old-fashioned woman, occupied with spiritual matters, her heart
open to needy people. She died at the age of 73 and was buried in Jerusalem
of Latvia.

[Page 159]

Rabbi Yoseph Sundel Rabinson

by Tzvi Rabinson

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

My father was a beautiful, gentle man. He was Yoseph Sundel Rabinson,
Rabbi Meir Rabinson's oldest son. He was born in Kroky, in Latvia. Even
as a child he was studious and knew the Bible by heart. He studied in the
Yeshiva in Volozin. His knowledge of the Bible was outstanding, and his
memory was great. He was a decent and honest man. He served as a rabbi
in a couple of communities but spent his last years in Radoshkowitz.

He died in Vilna a year before the outbreak of World War II. Before
his death he spent much time praying and crying. When my brother, who was
later killed during the Holocaust, asked him why he was crying, he answered
that he foresaw a great calamity for the Jewish people.

He is survived by a daughter, Nechama, who was a rebitzin in Disna and
is now in America, and a son in Israel.

May his memory be blessed!

[Page 160]

Rabbi Shneor Zalman Hillel Shulman

To My Father

by Henya Fuchs

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

Great is my pain for my family who were lost in the Holocaust: my dear
and good mother, my good sisters, and my dear brother, and leading them,
my righteous and generous father, his constant smiling, pleasant face,
a testimony to his goodness. He was a devoted father and pleasant to all.
He studied Torah day and night and fulfilled the commandments. He was ready
to help a fellow human being at any time. He welcomed the poor and needy
at our house. When a beggar came to our door he would give him a big, shalom
aleichem greeting, and when a worker performed a service for him he would
add to his wage, in case his work was worth more.

The only people he held a grudge against were the Poles, because they
mistreated him. When he went outside on the day they entered our town,
he was attacked by a group of Polish soldiers who surrounded him, laughed
at him, pushed him to the ground and started to cut his beard off. When
I saw this through the window I thought they were killing my father, and
I fainted. Since then he would say, Those Jew haters won't be in power
for long, they'll stumble and fall. All his life he taught Torah to the
town's children and did it with devotion and love  until he was killed
by the Nazi murderers.

Blessed be his memory!

[Page 161]

One of the Keepers of the Flame

(On the Grave of My Teacher, Yoel-Dov Isaacson)

by Dr. Yisrael Rubin (Ravkai)

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

The beginning of this era is the Haskalah, even though it had a foot
in assimilation and ended with a national awakening. Zionism and socialism
are both results of the Haskalah. It was most apparent when this movement
swept from Western Europe to the east. It was the small towns there, rather
than the cities, which were the breeding ground for the better part –Zionism
and socialism  whereas the cities were associated more with assimilation.

Many of the historians make the mistake of attributing the national
awakening to the leaders, who lived in cities, but I think that it was
the masses who encouraged these leaders, and the masses lived in small
towns.

For sixty to seventy years we had a group of Maskilim in Radoshkowitz
who began purely on the teaching of Mendelssohn, but from there they were
led by the poet M. Z. Mané, one of our first national poets, who,
in his intuitive way, expressed his longings for Zion.

Mané died fifty years ago, but the people of Radoshkowitz still
keep his spirit alive.

During forty years of continuous activity Yoel-Dov Isaacson, who just
passed away in Jerusalem, kept alive Mané's legacy, a mixture of
Haskalah and nationalism. He is responsible for educating hundreds of our
town's young to Zionism. His teachings were so imprinted on them that even
though some were temporarily lured by other ideas, all finally came back
to his first teachings.

He was a kind and influential man. Even his store, where he spent some
of his time earning a living, was a center for his students and his teaching.

From Mané to Yoel-Dov Isaacson was a steady period of keeping
the flame alive. Isaacson kept Mané's flame, and now Isaacson's
students will keep his. He deserves it!

[Page 163]

Ben Zion Shepsenbul

by Bezalel A.

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

He was my father, Yoel Zvi Isaacson's friend. They also shared the same
ideals and point of view. Both were students of the Haskalah and Zionism
and chose to implement it through Hebrew education. They wanted Jewish
children to learn Hebrew and learn to love all that was dear to them –
the Bible and the Land of Israel.

I remember something which happened when I was eight years old. I studied
in heder, but this took place on Shabbat. My father; my teacher; my friend,
Ze'ev Alperowitz and I went for a walk in a field out of town. The conversation
between the adults got around to the land of Israel, and I found my father
and my teacher speaking Hebrew. At the time I could read and write in Hebrew
and I even understand some of what they were saying, but I was really envious
of their knowledge and I wished I could speak as fluently as they. I was
proud of my father and was so grateful to my teacher, who made it a point
to include us, the little ones, in the conversation. He would ask us questions
on grammar, and we could answer all of them. My father was pleased with
my knowledge, my teacher was proud of his students, and I was happiest
for being able to share in the knowledge of the adults.

On Shabbat, I remember my father reading to us, his students, from the
History of the Jews. He was never tired of reading and we, of listening.
He would get excited, his voice soft and strong at times, sad and happy
at times. When he came to the part about the destruction of the Temple,
he could barely conceal his tears, and we would sit, captivated by his
reading, our cheeks wet with tears, drinking in every word. Since then
I have loved history.

I remember my teacher during services on Yom Kippur. I stood next to
my father, and my teacher sat at the end of our bench. My father taught
me not to leave during the prayer Asarah Harugay Malchut. According to
him, it was the most important prayer in the Machzor. I obeyed my father
and recited the prayer with intent and feeling. At the same time I saw
my teacher, whose tears were falling on his prayer book. It seemed as though
on Yom Kippur he let himself cry  and his tears made me cry too. When
the prayer was finished he would look around him as though he were embarrassed.

On the other hand, on Simchat Torah my teacher was the center of joy
for our Zionist Minyan.; He was the cantor; he was the Ba'al Kriá;
he lived the service; he blessed the wine, and his Kiddush made people
laugh. He knew how to be happy and make others happy.

Then came the last few years before I immigrated to Israel, when I was
a member of Hechalutz. Those were the golden years in Israel. The Fourth
Aliya was prospering. Many new immigrants came and bought land. Bnei Brak
and Magdiel were established. There was much activity in Poland and good
news from Israel. People were buying land and building houses. There are
no policemen, no taxes, no real estate taxes. One is his own master and
lives in freedom. At this news many communities establish societies aimed
at purchasing land in Israel. In Radoshkowitz such a society was also established,
and its founder was my teacher. At the founding meeting it was decided
that each member would have to contribute at least one dollar a week. With
time, it was hoped the money would grow and enable its members to purchase
land in Israel.

But after a while some bad news arrived from Israel. As a result, the
society fell apart, even though it had accumulated a few dozen dollars.
Despair was everywhere, and it finally caught up with my teacher. His plans
to buy a piece of land in Israel and all his dreams fell apart. The cruel
reality brought an end to his heart's desire.

At the same time his financial situation worsened. After many years
he had to leave his business and devote himself to teaching full time.
Finally he got a job teaching in the Tarbut school. But he had a hard time
adjusting to the new methods of the school. He finally left, saying, Let
the young teach, I am too old.

He died in 1927, after many years of service to our town. Many of his
students live in Israel now and carry his memory in their hearts.

[Page 165]

Ya'acov Cahanovich

by B. AN

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

Every one in town knew his room in his mother's home in the Synagogue
Court. The room served as a meeting place for various youth organizations,
but Ya'acov remained active in public and Zionist causes.

He was a meticulous dresser, well mannered and pleasant. He was an asset
to the Zionist Organizations he represented. He represented them locally
and nationally. Whenever a representative would come to visit, Ya'acov
Cahanovich was his constant companion. He did his best to make our town
look good to our guests  to have good attendance at meetings, to have
all committee members show up at meetings and have a warm welcome and a
nice farewell party for out-of-town guests. Most important Ya'acov made
sure the visit by an outsider would be fruitful by making the proper introductions
and by getting our local people excited about the purpose of his visit.

The few years after the Balfour Declaration were the golden period for
Ya'acov's activities in Radoshkowitz. Together with his friend Yoseph Lipman
(now in Israel), they chaired the local Zionist Federation. The times were
full of Zionist activity, and it was felt in Radoshkowitz also. We had
a Zionist club, and much of the activity took place there. With the help
of the older Zionists, funds were raised, Hebrew classes were started,
and the Tarbut school was founded. Over the years the school became well
established and was a great asset in the cultural and Zionist life of the
town. Ya'acov was among the first in all these activities, and thanks to
them, a new generation grew up educated to take its place in the life in
Israel.

Ya'acov Cahanovich did not live to fulfill the dream he was building.
He was killed with all the other martyrs of the Holocaust. May these lines
be a gravestone to his memory.

[Page 167]

Haim Shapira

by Ze'ev

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

In childhood my brother, Haim, absorbed his love of all things spiritual
and cultural and carried it with him the rest of his life. The Hebrew language
became part of his being. He loved the Bible dearly, a passion he acquired
from his teacher Benjamin Baron (the brother of the author, Dvora Baron),
who lived in Radoshkowitz during World War I. This great scholar introduced
Haim to the Bible and since then, the book never left his hand. It was
his favorite subject in the Hebrew high school in Vilna. His first gift
from Israel (he did not possess the strength to stay) was an album of flowers
mentioned in the Bible.

Haim loved literature. His pleasant voice would be heard at family gatherings
reading Hebrew poems by Bialik, Tchernichovsky, Yitzhak Katzenelson, etc.
He loved tradition and, even though he was not religious, read Torah on
Shabbat and holidays to the enjoyment of his listeners.

He became friends with new people from all walks of life, which served
him well when he was acting in the theatre in plays by Gordon, Hirshbein
and others. He was active in youth movements and public affairs in town.
He was among the founders of the youth movement, Herut VeThiya (Freedom
and Rebirth), Hechalutz, (The Pioneer), and the Tarbut school.

He found his true calling in teaching. He loved it and was very devoted
to it. During the fifteen years he spent as teacher and principal of Tarbut
he did much to raise the level of Jewish education, turning out students
knowledgeable and devoted to it.

My brother, Haim, was a devoted and concerned son to our parents and
to me, especially while I was studying in Vilna. He was killed by the Nazis
in Hochaza (Rovna County) together with our parents, who had come to him
from Radoshkowitz after he had lost his wife, Alisa, and his only son,
Meirke, who perished in the Bialestok Ghetto.

My dear beloved brother, you fell with our people's martyrs. May your
name be blessed forever.

[Page 168]

Dr. Nachum (Nathan) Weisbord

by B. AN

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

He stood out among the young activists, and was a live spirit in public
life. He had a burning desire for a university education, but since he
was one of many children, he had to create his own path through his studies.
It was a long and arduous path, first as a graduate of the Belarussian
high school in Radoshkowitz, which he, Nathan, was instrumental in establishing,
then through great hardship till he graduated medical school in Prague.
He remained devoted to his home town and strove to become a respected physician
there.

He had a special fondness for the Hebrew language and culture and served
as a teacher in the Tarbut school in Radoshkowitz. He was very active in
all social and public functions and was much admired for it.

He was killed while serving as a physician at the hospital in Radoshkowitz
during the Nazi occupation. In his naivete he believed that as a physician
his life would be spared. He was among the last to die.

[Page 169]

In Memory of Those Who Fell During the
Illegal Immigration and the War of Independence

Mordecai Bumstein (His Story)

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

Mordecai was born in 1921 to a working class family in Radoshkowitz.
His father, Shalom, worked at the biggest flour mill, and his mother was
a seamstress. His birth was a happy event, since he was the first son after
three daughters.

At the early age of two, he showed artistic talent. For hours he would
sit at the sewing machine turning the wheel, or he would put in or remove
all kinds of screws, until he lost a finger on his right hand. Still, he
remained curious, full of joy and mischief, though very obedient as far
as his parents were concerned.

His parents were intent on providing him with the best education and
had high hopes for his future. He was bright and quick to learn. He studied
for seven years in the religious school, Horev, and was the pride of
his parents and teachers. His favorite subjects were mathematics and mechanical
drawing. His teachers suggested that he continue his education in Vilna,
but his parents couldn't afford it. They had had two more children and
had to provide education for all.

Mordecai had to abandon his desire for further education. At the age
of sixteen or seventeen he left for Vilna. After many difficulties he got
a job as an apprentice in a metal workshop. When the Germans marched into
Poland in 1939, Mordecai returned to Radoshkowitz. A short time after the
liberation of Belarus by the Red army he joined the fire brigade and became
its commander.

But at the start of war between the USSR and Germany, he foresaw the
tragedy which befell the Jews. So he and a few other young Jews went to
Russia, where he ultimately reached Russian Asia and joined a Kolkhoz,
where he learned about agriculture. There, also, he worked hard and was
well-liked by everyone. In nine months he joined the work brigade and worked
in one of the big factories in Sverdlovsk. He did well financially, and
his prospects for the future seemed good. But his dream to immigrate to
Israel and build his home there did not leave him. In 1944, after the Nazi's
retreat from Belarus, he received news from home about his family.

Those who survived did so, thanks to the fact that they had left the
ghetto and joined the partisans in the forests. Two of his sisters were
killed by the Nazis, and his father had died after fighting with the partisans
for two years. The news only strengthened his resolution to leave Poland
and go to Israel. In early June, 1946, Mordecai and the first survivors
of his family, two sisters and a brother, left the USSR headed for Poland.
There, he joined a few thousand other survivors, who planned to go to Israel.

In Lodz he joined Hashomer Hatzair, with the intention of joining
Kibbutz Lochamay Haghettaot. Again, he worked hard, was well-liked, was
always ready to help a needy friend and always had the right answer to
a problem.

The big day finally arrived. He left with the ship, Exodus, in 1947.
The British naval destroyers did not scare him. Don't worry, comrades,
we will get there, he told his friend. One dreadful night, exhausted from
seasickness, he insisted on participating in a naval battle. He did reach
Israel  only to be buried there, in Haifa on July 18, 1947, among heroes
like himself.

May his memory be blessed!

(From a book published in his memory by Hashomer Hatzair
Gal On)

[Page 172]

Arié Bumstein

by M.

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

On the small plowed hill near our farm, under a white tombstone, rests
Arié, our dear friend. He came to us young and energetic, after
twenty years of suffering and struggle. He was a child when World War II
broke out and spent the war years in the forests with Jewish and non-Jewish
partisans. He learned about life the hard way and was thus immunized against
whatever might come. No wonder that later, when he left for Israel on the
Exodus, he was prepared to face any surprises that awaited him and his
friends, like his brother, Mordecai, being killed on that ship by British
pirates.

He continued his struggle two years later when he finally reached Israeli
shores. Those were the days of the War of Independence. He was sent to
Kibbutz Ma'anit, on the front line. Arié welcomed everything with
love. He did his duty on the front line. He spent the nights guarding and
the days under fire. But he began to put down roots in the kibbutz, and
he learned to raise chickens.

After a while a group was sent to Kibbutz Gal On, and Arié found
his place here too. He took upon himself the heavy task of building a chicken
coop for the kibbutz. He was a quiet fellow; he talked little but worked
hard. He spent his days toiling and the evening, studying. He was modest
on one hand, but ambitious on the other.

Then a deadly disease, which he ignored for years, put an end to his
young life. He was taken away from us in the spring of his of his life,
just as he began building himself a family nest.

May his soul be linked to our project, which is his.

(Al Hamishmar 1951)

[Page 173]

Yekutiel (Kuty) Funt

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

He was born on Jan. 20, 1930, in Petach Tikva. His parents were, Zalman
and Hinka Funt. His paternal grandfather, Reb Yekutiel Funt, lived in Radoshkowitz
and was known for his intelligence and knowledge of the Bible. He was honest
and pedantic, had strong opinions and did not acquiesce easily. He disliked
bowing down to anyone, even to authority. He used to tell how much he was
bothered by the police commissioner, a neighbor, who would come into his
store and in a haughty manner use the familiar form, thou, and Yekutiel,
to be polite, would answer in the respectful form, your excellency. After
the revolution, when the Czar was removed, so was the police commissioner.
One day he came into Yekutiel's store and said, How art thou, Funt? To
that Yekutiel answered, Fine, thanks, and how art thou? That's how he
got even.

The father, Zalman, one of the first pioneers from Radoshkowitz, passed
on some of his own father's characteristics to his son, a bright and excellent
student. His parents brought him up in a pioneering spirit. He belonged
to the youth movement, Hano'ar Ha'oved, where he was very active. He
attended an elementary school in Petach Tikvah, where he stood out as a
bright and talented student. Then he attended Herzlia High School in Tel-Aviv.
He majored in math and physics and graduated with a prize in mathematics.
After graduation, he joined a youth group from Hano'ar Ha'oved at a settlement
near the Kineret. These were the days of struggle with the British, so
he helped defend his settlement. Then he trained as a squad leader, and
when the War of Independence broke out, his unit took part in liberating
and defending Tiberias, Ramat Yochanan, Mishmor Ha'emek, Zefat and more.
When the Jordan Valley was threatened by Syria, he and his small unit fought
bravely against much larger enemy forces. He fell in this battle on May
19, 1948.

He was buried in a large common grave in a grove in Degania Alef. He
was eighteen and a half years old. May his memory live forever.

[Page 175]

Various Characters from Radoshkowitz

by Dr. Yisrael Rubin (Ravkai)

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

There was a rich gallery of interesting characters in Radoshkowitz 
wonderful material for a psychologist or artist. Let me mention only a
few, those I remember best. My apologies to those I have not mentioned
at all, and to those I have mentioned only briefly.

A. Torah Students

Among those whose knowledge was deep and sharp, or just loved the study
of the Torah, let me mention:

Rabbi Meir, son of Rabbi Yehoshua-Zvi Rabinson, a fine looking
man and a man of substance. He combined seriousness with delicacy and warmth.
He peppered his sharp sermons with popular humor. His sayings became popular
proverbs among the members of his congregation.

Rabbi Aharon, his assistant, was the rabbi of the common people,
who, when they came to him with questions, felt no social distance. He
was plain and kind hearted, his face and beard always in a cloud of pipe
smoke. He had an interesting collection of pipes. But his words were nothing
like the smoke; they were clear and simple. His sermons were not innovative,
but since he was teaching simple Jews in small groups, he did not teach
them Halacha; he taught them legend, and would add some of his own exciting
words. As a child I liked to sneak into these lessons and listen to his
stories.

Rabbi Ya'acov-Pinchas Gordon. He was a balabatishe Jew. He
did not use his Torah knowledge to make a living. His mother-in-law opened
a store for him, and he turned out to be a fine businessman. He was very
pedantic about his own behavior and that of others. He would not readily
accept their opinions. His ideas influenced many people  my father, for
example. He opposed Zionism and Haskalah, basing his opinions on his close
knowledge of the literature. During my student years, I became captivated
by the ideas of socialism. Upon my frequent visits to Radoshkowitz he was
the only person to argue with me and point out the pitfalls of socialism,
based on his reading of some of the forbidden pamphlets. He was a fine
chess player and enjoyed solving difficult math problems presented by his
brother-in-law, Yehoshua, who was self-taught in abstract sciences. His
son Baruch, became one of my best friends and, in spite his father, a friend
of Zionism and socialism.

Rabbi Yitzhak (Itché) Zilburg, son-in-law and pride of
Rabbi Eliezer, was a virtuoso in talmudic and general wisdom, who could
grasp very complex ideas from hints. He was restless and couldn't sit still,
so I would find him pacing at the new synagogue, discussing secular matters
of utmost importance. He was well read in Zionism and socialism. One glance
at a text was enough for him to get the whole idea. I once saw him glance
at an article by Nachum Sokolov in the weekly, Hazfira, and immediately
begin discussing small details from the article. Years later I allowed
myself a psychological test when I presented him the book, Zionism, by
Dr. Sappir (in Russian) and The Communist Manifesto, by Marx and Engels,
and again, after only thumbing through them, he was able to express his
pros and cons. By the way, he was a Zionist.

Rabbi Mons-Isser Polonsky, Rabbi Meir's son-in-law. When he came
to Radoshkowitz we met a new type of rabbi, one educated in Haskalah. What
the previously mentioned Torah scholars knew about Haskalah was intuitive.
Rabbi Mons-Isser's knowledge was based on formal education. The Maskilim
in town whispered, The rabbi has a son-in-law who resembles his son, Dr.
Mordecai Rabinson, a local hero like Mané, who combined Torah and
Haskalah. Rabbi Mons-Isser was mild mannered, his European refinement contrasting
sharply with the roughness of Radoshkowitz. He was moderate and logical
in his arguments. Some Jews were asking, Is he really one of us? And
the young Maskilim were happy to say, He is one of us.

Rabbi Nachum Lieberman. He was a shochet, melamed, Torah reader
and prayer leader in the Lubavitch Shtibel. Like Rabbi Michel at the big
synagogue, he was the central religious person, and the one people liked
best. Both were popular and full of joy. He was the life of every party.
With his beautiful voice and sense of humor he made everyone rejoice. He
was not extremely religious, so he got along with the young Maskilim. He
read Gemara and the secular, Hazfira, and even at his heder, he included
some secular teaching.

Rabbi Moshe, the Melamed. (His wife was a midwife who amply supplemented
his income). He was quiet and naïve, a rather lazy, but good hearted
person, who could not hurt a fly. He was overwhelmed by the least little
problem. His students knew his weakness and took advantage of him. They
tortured him with their rowdiness. He was saved only by his wife, who was
the exact opposite  talkative, strong-willed and domineering. In town,
people joked that when his students got out of hand he threatened them
by saying, I'll tell this to my wife. Rabbi Moshe was no scholar, but
he had an intuitive ability to explain the difficult portions of Gemara
with a few well chosen words, and he was equally helpful to adults studying
Gemara. His wife used to brag, In the morning my husband teaches little
goyim, and in the evening, big goyim.

Rabbi Moshe (Eliots) Padarsky, a merchant, well mannered, respectful
of Torah and Haskalah. His comfortable home was a meeting place for both
circles. He was assisted by his hostess wife, Haya, a sister of the author,
Dvora Baron. All the celebrations at the end of each portion of the Gemara
took place in their home, with R' Michel dancing, with plays and games.

Rabbi Yechezkiel (Chatcha) Rubin, my father, who was a devoted
member of the Talmud studies group. He added more studying in the early
morning and late at night. Like most of his friends, he used to study from
books he borrowed from the synagogue and bemoaned the fact that he could
not afford his own books. He was happiest when, one day, I presented him
with his own Mishna (which I bought with my first salary as a teacher).
My father died while studying that book when he was living with me in Minsk.

Rabbi Zissel, one of the wisest old men of Radoshkowitz. Because
of his advanced age he could not join the circle of men studying Gemara
at the synagogue, but he followed their progress while studying at home.
Once, he even came to Rabbi Moshe Eliots' home to join the celebration
on completion of a portion of Gemara. Everybody would come to him when
they needed good advice on private or public matters. When not studying
Gemara or absorbed in readings in Haskalah, he played chess and did so
in a most original way  he played against himself, to everybody's amazement.

[Page 180]

B. Maskilim, Zionists, Socialists

Yoel-Dov Isaacson  Berl Chaska's. In my childhood, when Haskalah
and Zionism were synonymous, he was the trailblazer. He was moderate and
good natured. As a child he was known to rebel against the orthodoxy of
his family (his father, Reb Ya'acov, was very religious and strict and
later was critical of both Haskalah and Zionism). He made a living from
his store but found satisfaction in various social activities devoted to
his favorite subjects. His store became a center of activity for young
Maskilim and Zionists. In his attic, in neatly piled stacks, next to the
Passover dishes, were old issues of the periodical, Hamailitz.
My friend Avraham Yitzhak Grodzensky and I would sweat up there for hours at a time
reading them. We'd carefully leave the piles undisturbed, so our secret
wouldn't be discovered. Berl gladly lent books to anyone interested but
insisted that they be treated with respect. His favorite time was speaking
Hebrew to his friends (Ben Zion Shepsenbul and others). Later, when he
was getting ready to immigrate to Israel  first he sent his son there
– he learned how to raise bees, since he wanted to become a farmer. His
knowledge of Hebrew grammar was excellent.

Ben Zion Shepsenbul. He was not a native of Radoshkowitz but
became one of the leaders of Haskalah and Zionism. He taught Hebrew to
many young people, including me. He too, made his living from his store,
but his heart was in Zionism. Like Zangvill, he once told me he enjoyed
teaching so much that he ought to have paid for the privilege instead of
being paid.

Zalman Sara-Dreishaus. If the two above-mentioned men were Cohens,
he was a Levite. He provided young Zionists with books and tested them
later to see how much they got from their reading. The first Hebrew library
was in Zalman's house, all in one big drawer of his dresser. He had a full
collection of Tushia, those thin, red pamphlets. Many a Sabbath, we would
come to him for fresh reading material. I must admit that a few times when
he gave me the key so I could borrow a book, I walked away with two or
three  one in my hand and the others under my coat. Years later he told
me that he knew of my theft.

My brother, Shmuel (Rubin). He was restless and full of inner
conflicts and consequently changed professions several times. An enlightened
man, he wanted to earn a living working and several times jumped from one
occupation to another. When he was married with children he learned watch
repair, then he became a tanner. Later he learned to be a shochet and went
to America to become a chef. He was devoted to only one passion all his
life  to Haskalah and Zionism. He was always reading  studying Zvi Gratz's,
The History of the Jews. When he taught he would excite his students
with the Bible, to which he gave interpretations which were a mixture of Haskalah
and tradition. He was a fine speaker and original thinker and even published a small
book.

Ya'acov Cahanovich (Yankl Grishé-Lea's) was my beloved
childhood boy friend, the representative of every progressive movement
in our town. All correspondence from every Zionist organization came to
his address. Every Zionist guest was welcomed by him. He was the founder
of a large Hebrew library. He helped to establish the first Hebrew school
and for many years was the spirit of every progressive activity.

Ilia Dude's (Lappidot). One of the first members of the Jewish
socialist movement in town. At first he was known as a moderate and modest
young man, who helped in his father's leather shop and spent his few free
hours reading books. To this day I wonder how revolutionary ideas reached
him from afar and excited him so, that he founded the first Socialist group
in town. He spent every evening mingling among the groups of young people
walking in the woods, looking for converts to socialism. He succeeded in
attracting young people, maybe because he was so modest. I can tell you
from my own experience. I heard his speeches. He was extremely clear and
convincing and could be quite exciting in his soft way of speaking. All
of a sudden new expressions were being used among the young people adopting
socialism and Zionism.

Eli Dude's immigrated to America and disappeared. In my memory he remains
one of the thirty-six righteous men, in a modern edition.

Leibé Yehuda's (Shapira). His father, Yehuda Faygel's
was a pedantic melamed, strange, petty and rebellious, always complaining
about somebody or something. He was very critical of those on whom he depended
for his livelihood. Leibé, his son, grew up like an orphan at his
grandmother's and suffered deprivation and contempt. He was rebellious
like his father but applied himself to his favorite cause. He was an excellent
socialist propagandist. His speech was full of fire and was merciless,
but he captivated many young people. He also immigrated to America and
was never heard from again.

Henia Mendel's (Tanhilevich) was known around town by the derogatory
nickname Czaritza, meaning, She would like to have Czar Nikolai
dethroned so she could take his place. She came from a nice quiet family,
but her own speech was pure revolutionary fire. She was a great organizer and was
very influential with young people. Eli Dude's and Leibé Yehuda's
were men of theory; she was all action, a real revolutionary.

Hirshel Dude's, Eliyahu's young brother, who died young. In his
short life he proved to be very brave and daring. He was not a scholar
like his brother, but a man of action to the point of risking his life.

[Page 185]

C. Common People

Vavka (Ze'ev  Wolf). He was a tailor-mender, whose house in
the synagogue court looked as if it were about to fall apart, sticking
out from one angle and unseen from another. The same with its owner. Sometimes
he stood out among a group of Jews in the synagogue or the market, talking
more than others, and then he would disappear for days.

He was the typical uneducated person, though sometimes he would insist
on interpreting one of the most obscure passages of the Bible, and people
would laugh.

And yet, sometimes he would come up with the most accurate adjectives
for certain people, those whom he disliked most. He could tell about imaginary
events in the most descriptive language, to the delight of children, who
would listen eagerly to his stories.

Reb Shmuel Vatelier, a pedantic malamed, was named after the
village he came from. He lived at the edge of town and thence his second
name, Reb Shmuel der Ekediker. He was very quiet most of the time. Even
with his students at the heder he used very few words, and just one day
a year, on Simchat Torah, he would talk and sing and conduct a children's
choir. That day he was full of joy, as though he were compensating himself
for his gloom the rest of the year. I can still see him singing in Hebrew
and Yiddish.

Haim Nishka's (Mané). He was the popular town doctor,
the right hand man of the Polish Dr. Zalensky, who was considered the specialist
in the area. And thanks to him even Haim had a large practice among Jews
and gentiles. He owned the first gramophone in town; his son owned the
first mandolin. He was also the owner of the first beauty shop. His daughter
became a midwife in Vilna and brought to Radoshkowitz refinements we never
knew before: Russian conversation and literary discussions.

Haim Nishka's had but a few medications at his disposal and two or three
formulas for prescriptions. He would vary them from time to time, regardless
of the illness. And strange as it seems, according to his patients, it
helped. The old Polish doctor would not see a patient once he had been
seen by his assistant, Haim.

Yodel Lea-Bryna's (Segalovich). His store was one of the largest
in town, and his customers were the richest. He carried attractive and
modern merchandise  cosmetics for women, bikes for rental to young people
and harmonicas for music lovers. Yodel was the first to enjoy pleasures
of the modern world, according to our naïve standards. He was the
one who conducted our community choir in the forest, and it was he who
introduced dancing (waltz, fox trot, etc.)

Fishel Haim Heshla's. He was a tinsmith but was very creative
and artistic and did interesting things in metal. Some of his work decorated
the columns near the cantor's stand in the synagogue. They were things
he made for his own pleasure. His son and daughter, devoted members of
the Socialist Party, were also talented and creative. His daughter embroidered
the flag for the May 1st parades, his son decorated the halls
where the party balls were held, and he, Fishel, unlike other parents whose
children had joined the party, was their friend. He not only knew about
their revolutionary activities and did not protest or interfere but supported
them.

Reb Avraham, the Hat Maker. He was a very good looking Jew,
straight and nimble, good natured and ready to assist all in need. Despite
his extreme piety he did not clash with the young progressive element.
He expressed his dislike, but was careful not to hurt them. He liked to
conduct prayers and stubbornly insisted on doing so on Shabbat and holidays.
He had a nice voice and sang beautifully. As a young boy, I enjoyed two
things which were my privilege as his neighbor  the tasty apples and plums
which grew in his garden and his beautiful singing when, every Friday,
he practiced for the Torah reading. Reb Avraham was not a scholar but still
studied Torah and a page in Gemara every week.

Yacovson, the Shamus. To this day I wonder why this modest
Jew was called by his last name, which was very rare. (Some of the scholarly
Jews were called by both their first and last names, like Reb Chatch Shapira,
Reb Yoseph Rosenhaus). He was quiet and followed other people's orders
all his life. He followed Rabbi Damta everywhere and carried out his every
wish at the slightest hint. He performed his many duties at the big synagogue
very carefully and silently.

He never lost his temper, even over children's mischief. His wife sold
cloth in a small makeshift shop next to my father's. On market day they
would carry the merchandise from home and back again at the end of the
day. Yacovson was of little help to his wife. He was too quiet, in general and
didn't know the goyish language, so he couldn't be of much help.
But I remember how he used to draw customers to his wife's store using one
word, tshuish, (which meant listen in our local Belarussian), and
when he brought a customer into the store he would tell his wife, I
brought you another tshuish.

Yoshé (Yoseph) the Butcher. The chief gabai of the new
synagogue was a sort of self-crowned king, but no one disputed his right
to the crown. He was quick to anger, energetic and ready to sacrifice
everything for his synagogue. The children were scared to death of him,
and it wasn't only the children  everyone was careful not clash with him.

Reb Haim, the Shoemaker. He had no children of his own, and maybe
that was the reason for his extraordinary love of children. He was always
surrounded by children, who loved him and his stories and would follow
his every word. In his shop he employed a few workers and treated them
well. When the wave of organized strikes by the socialists reached our
town, Reb Haim proclaimed that his workers would not strike, and, indeed,
they did not, because he raised their pay even before being asked to. His
workshop was kind of a cooperative  he divided the profit equally among
his workers. He was the first to contribute to the settlement of Israel
and carried stamps in his pocket which said, You will reclaim the land
of Israel. He once he told me proudly, It's good that I always carry
a sacred Mezuzah in my pocket. He was referring to a share in the Anglo-Palestine
Bank. He was kind and supportive of the young socialists, too.

Ziré-Meré and her daughter Sara (Epstein). Righteous
women in the best sense of the word. They made their living baking all
kinds of sweets, and the many children who

came to their door found in them the same sweetness as in their products.
One never heard a loud voice or the sound of disagreement. Ziré
gave to charity secretly, and so did her daughter.

Reb Haim Moshe Yerachmiel's. He wore two hats: he was the shamus
in the new synagogue and a pedantic melamed. But his real talent lay in
his third occupation  making tombstones. He taught himself to carve highly
stylized letters and even made his own tools. Many stones in the cemetery
of Radoshkowitz were made by him. He was able to talk to his students in
a simple language and explain the most complex ideas in a logical, childish
way. He also made toys for them from paper and wood, which could have served
as models for professional teachers.

He lived modestly and religiously. He fasted on all fasting days and
even on other days ate sparingly. From his meager income, he gave to charity.

Rabbi Feitl. Rabbi was not a title of respect  rather the
opposite. There was a rumor that in his youth he had been the leader (rabbi) of
a band of thieves, but no one knew if it was true. When I knew him he was old,
quiet, modest and among the moderates. He lived all his life in his small house
on Minsk Street which was a very busy street. Yet, he was seldom seen on the
street, keeping to himself as though wanting to be unseen, like a shadow. His
voice was heard only when reading T'hilim at the synagogue
towards evening on Shabbat, and, unlike other Jews, he read it softly and
warmly, which was much more effective than whiny, loud reading.

Izik, the Blacksmith. His shop was near the bridge, on the way
to the public baths. The sounds of his hammer could be heard from afar,
the sparks flying in all directions. He was always covered with soot, but
when he talked he conveyed light and inner peace. He was full of warmth
and kindness. He used to praise Jews and gentiles alike. I once heard him
say to his assistant, who was replacing a horseshoe, Be careful, son,
don't hurt the animal.

Itché-Zalman the Zulik (The Cheat). I wonder where he
got his nick name? Was it from his cleverness and cunning? But he was not
like this in his everyday life as I knew him. On the contrary, he was honest,
the first one to come to the aid of the needy and a peacemaker when people
were arguing. And he was clever. He could get to the bottom of things on
the basis of the slightest hint, but he never used his ability in a negative
way. He respected learning. The first yeshiva in town, under Rabbi Haim-Nachmun
from Volozin, was in his house and, for a while, with no payment.

Yoel-Zerach (Yacovson). Son of the above-mentioned shamus. He
clearly refuted the saying, The apple does not fall far from the tree.
He was the exact opposite of his father  full of life and joy. In spite
of being an adult, he was the first to join in any childish prank at the
synagogue or elsewhere. He was a carriage driver, transporting people to
and from the train station. On the way, he would entertain passengers with
his singing and jokes. People would say that time seemed to fly when riding
with him. But in spite of his talent, he had few riders, since most people
went with David Ortzica's, the main carrier.

Moisai (Poliacov). For some reason he was called Moisai and not
Moshe, maybe because he was half a lawyer. His was an enlightened home;
his daughters spoke Russian, and he preferred his poor Russian over Yiddish.
In general, he kept to himself and did not have friends. Most people thought
he was conceited, but to those who got close to him and got to know him,
his strangeness was not due to conceit but to some psychological flaw,
since he was good-hearted and always ready to help a friend.

Adelsky, the teacher. As principal of the public school,
he kept his distance from most people and socialized with those in authority
 the customs director and police commissioner. He came to synagogue only
on Shabbat, and when he showed up in his uniform, which made him stand
out, people would say, He's here already. People were a little afraid
of him and poked fun at him at every opportunity. I was one of his students
and can remember some examples of his skill as a pedagogue.

Reb Yoel, the leather merchant and his sons, Umka and Dudl. Reb.
Yoel's house was a meeting place for all Maskilim. The sons, Umka and Dudl,
with their father's support, were among the first very active Socialist-Zionists.

Mina Rhoda (Isaacson). Her sons and sons-in-law were well learned
in the Torah. All the Torah scholars met in her home, where she received
them with open arms. She set the tone, a mixture of refinement and simplicity.

Reb Lima Levine. His home was kind of an illustration of Y. L.
Perez's Four Generations. Reb Hirshel lived to be over a hundred. His
son, Lima, was about eighty years old when I knew him. His son, Haim, was
interested in Haskalah and Zionism, and his son Moshka, was among the first
to appear dressed up, carrying a Russian book. These four went to synagogue
together every Shabbat and embodied Jewish roots at their best. They were
all kind and polite and never quarreled with anyone. From the open windows
of their homes emanated a warm intimacy.

Reb Hirshel liked to tell that as a youngster, a few years before he
put on tefillin, he would wrap himself up in a talit. What did this wonder
mean? He was married before he was Bar Mitzvah.

All four generations dealt in the forestry trade all their lives and,
like trees, stood tall and proud.

[Page 193]

Scholars and The Pious

by Ya'akov Robinson

Translated by Elisabeth Ruderman

The Radoshkowitz community was a uniform group without internal conflicts,
and the love of Torah was shared by all. There were no differences between
life at the Beit Hamidrash and life outside. The community was unified
and peaceful, respectful of scholars and the pious, and of men of action
and those interested in the sciences. The leaders were versed in world
affairs, aware of city life, polite and moderate; and people looked up
to their leaders with respect. My father, the rabbi, used to say, in Radoshkowitz
we have no masses, because our so-called masses would be
considered respectable middle class in other towns.

According to tradition, Radoshkowitz was quite old; some said as old
as Vilna and once spread as far as Ragva, a distance of five viorst.
The old synagogue was quite beautiful  there were only three such synagogues
in all of Russia. It was destroyed in a fire, but I did see it when I was
a baby, and I remember that its walls were covered with lists and quotations.
The ark was decorated with two lions with their tongues sticking out. This
wonderful building held memories of great Torah scholars who came from
our town  Rabbi Izil from Slonim, for example, son of a baker, who as
a boy would climb to the top balconies early in the morning and scare the
praying men.

Rabbi Haim, from Volozin, said about the Great Rabbi, Avraham Ber, I
am afraid of the Radoshkowitz bear.

Rabbi Simcha from Davinsk counted three rabbis among the generation's
thirty-six righteous: Moshele from Baltrimanz, Rabbi Zondel from Aishishok
and Rabbi Shlomo Mordecai from Radoshkowitz. And Vatcha, a member of Habad,
said about him, jokingly, Thank God, we have an impressive rabbi, but he
is a coward, he is afraid of God.

After Brudna came my father, Rabbi Meir Rabinson, wise in the Torah
and world affairs. He excelled in discussions and sermons. He understood
human nature and got along with everyone, big and small. He was well-liked
by the gentiles, and Father Troyan, who was a friend to the Jews, used
to visit his home and was impressed by the many books which lined our walls.

Some of the great rabbis in other towns were related by marriage to
residents of Radoshkowitz, like Rabbi Pinchas Razovsky and Rabbi Hirsh
Hominer. Others who came from Radoshkowitz were the great authors, Rabbi
Avraham Maskit Eitan and Rabbi Leib Vilkomirer, a great Torah scholar.

From the permanent residents of Radoshkowitz, I must mention a long
list of people who were community leaders, learned in Torah and Haskalah:

Yehuda Shalom's and Shalom Edel's, were active in community affairs.
Among the Hassidim were some who were good looking and had good taste,
like Barka Haim Aba's. Among the unassuming ones let me mention Notké,
the melamed, my father's right hand man in doing works of charity. He was
my first teacher, and his son is the philanthropist, Axelrod. Among the
good looking people, let me mention Hazi Shapira, Yoshé Rosenhaus,
Koifman Alterman, and Eliots and Moshe Padarsky. Among the scholars: Rabbi
Moshe No'ach Rubinstein, Rabbi Ya'acov Pinchas Gordon, Rabbi Ya'acov Moshe
Alperovich, Rabbi Yekutiel Funt and Rabbi Ya'acov Ze'ev Epstein, a studious
man, who taught Mishna all his life. Another diligent student of Torah
was Yitzhak Ya'acov, the melamed, who left a deep impression on me. My
learned friend, Haim Shmuel Lappidot, was the student of Rabbi Shimon Shkep
from Telz Yeshiva. But the greatest was Rabbi YitzhakZilburg, with
whom I studied Torah. In his youth he was friends with Rabbi Avraham Ber
who later was appointed as rabbi in Kovna.

Among those close to Torah studies but from the middle class, I remember
a few fine friends. Yoel Honi's, my friend, Avraham Leib's father, was
a lovely and honest man. The cantor and shochet, Reb Michel, who lived
to be a hundred, was kind and good tempered. His son, Haim David Rosenstein,
was an excellent teacher and author and was among the founders of the revised
heder in Russia. Reb Pesach Canterovich, my first melamed, was kind and
loved by his young students. Shmuel Eliezer's Isaacson was fluent in Midrash
and honest. The two shamashim who served our town devotedly for many years,
Reb Yerachmiel Ben Hendle, a smart and well-liked man, who was there at
the synagogue and completed Thilun every single day, and his son, Reb Yechezkel
Rubin, a jolly and kind man, who studied Torah all his life and raised
sons who excelled in both Torah and science  Rabbi Shmuel Rubin and Dr.
Israel Rivkai (Rubin). Reb Ze'ev Yacovson was a kind and quiet man. He
was a shamus at the Beit Din and a frequent visitor at Rabbi Damta's.

Among the newer circle, those who combined Torah, Haskalah and Zionism,
I should mention Yoel Dov Isaacson, Ben Zion Shepsenbul and Moshe Lea-Bryna's.
The first two were outstanding teachers, well versed in Hebrew and Hebrew
grammar. Yoel Dov Isaacson moved to Israel where he died.

Among those who had respect for Torah and Torah students were the butchers,
Yoshé and Leibé. They were regular, persistent students of Ein
Ya'acov. Others worthy of mention from the vicinity of the town are Yoshé
from Kaleisburg, Itché from Odrei, who would read at
the Big Synagogue on the High Holidays, and the father of the honest and
highly respected merchants, Moshe and Shimon Zukovsky. Other important
and honest merchants were Sinai from Vermeika and his son, Alter; Yehuda
and Avraham from Ragva and the mechanic, who was the Ba'al T'filla on the
high Holy Days at the new Beit Hamidrash.

The regular students at Beit Hamidrash were young, local men like Reb
Nachum Haim from Volozin. Also, the home of Ziré-Meré, a
regular supporter of these students, was an off campus place of study.

[Page 196]

The Yeshiva Hayai Olam

by Ya'akov RobinsonTranslated by Elisabeth Ruderman

In 1911 two brothers, both students at Beit Hamidrash came up with the
idea of establishing a yeshiva in Radoshkowitz. The oldest, Shmuel, went
to Volozin and brought back two learned young men to serve as the nucleus
for the yeshiva. One was from Vishkov, and the second, from Lomza, was
an excellent scholar, who was later appointed rabbi in Padgorna, a suburb
of Minsk (His father-in-law was known as the outstanding scholar form Bobroisk,
and was among the martyrs killed in Hebron in 1929.) The first eight students
were joined by thirty local young men, to form a core of permanent scholars.
Rabbi Raphael, the head of the reduced Volozin Yeshiva, saw a rival in
the Yesihva of Radoshkowitz. The yeshiva depended on local contributions,
a task undertaken by the yeshiva director, aided by the writer of these
lines.

The students of the yeshiva studied in the big Beit Midrash, which was
as large as the Big Synagogue in Tel-Aviv, and in the evening there was
a lamp on every window sill. Each student studied his own page of the Gemara,
but the children were taught in a group and one of the students explained
one page of Gemara per day. The study consisted of explanation and logic,
and the yeshiva turned out a few brilliant students. Among the oldest students
was Mordecai Epstein, now living inTel-Aviv. One other student worthy of
mention is H. A. Friedland, from Horodock, who became famous in America
as a teacher and writer. The yeshiva existed for seven years under the
direction of Rebbi Moshe Padaresky, Rabbi Yekutiel Funt and others.

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